Close enough to be family
by IvyGreen13
Summary: Modern day AU in which Les Amis are divided into two different families that declare war against each other... until certain people start to fall for each other. E/E and M/C
1. Chapter 1

**Enjolras**

I hate eighth grade. It's too easy. Too boring. Nothing's a challenge. And everyone's so annoying. They think I can't hear what they say behind my back. 'There's Enjolras, the freak who skipped two grades.' It's not my fault. The tests were easy. My reflection is interrupted by the bus door opening. I stand up, hoisting my backpack onto my shoulders, and hurry off the bus and into my house. I have a big family, but it's not chaotic, like you'd expect. No, not in the Javert family. My siblings are amazing.

There's Fueilly. He's the youngest, only five. He has an incredible work ethic, and is smarter than the rest of his class simply because he spends so much time studying.

Jehan is amazing. He's only six, but manages to be a fabulous poet and artist.

Marius is my age, he's my fraternal twin. He's shy and awkward, but he's clever and knows a lot. He wants to be a lawyer when he grows up.

Combeferre is twelve. He's really smart and he loves to read. Joly's fourteen and wants to be a doctor. Personally, I think he could be one now, he's a genius.

Musichetta is sixteen. She helps keep us all under control because Dad's always at work. She has an evening job in the cafe Musain.

I'm eleven. I'm supposedly a 'child prodigy', which makes me feel like a freak. I hate being marked as different, but I suppose everyone wants what they can't have. And what I want is to be normal.

"I'm home!" I call.

Marius pounds down the stairs. He goes to a different school. It starts and ends earlier.

"Hi, Enjy!"  
"Don't call me that."

He laughs.

"How was your day?"  
"Too easy."

He rolls his eyes.  
We both go upstairs to our shared room. My half is covered in maps of France and has the French flag hanging above my desk. I have been asked numerous times about them, my only answer being 'France is the most important thing to me.'

Jehan bursts into the room.

"Some new people moved into the house next to ours last week! How is it that no one here noticed?"  
"Um..." Honestly, I haven't been paying attention. I've been reading Les Miserables all day for the past two weeks. Even after I finished it.  
"New neighbors?" I ask, "Great. They'll probably be 'normal' and tease us no end."

"Come on, don't be such a pessimist, Enjolras."  
"Actually, that sounds about right. When has he not been one?" asks Marius.  
I groan.

"Whatever. I'm going outside."  
I take my book and leave. There's a treehouse right outside our house. It's actually between our house and the one next to it, but no one lives there.

I climb the ladder. When I near the top, I put my book down and climb in.  
"Hey!" says a voice.  
I almost fall out. I look up and see a boy my age sitting next to me.

"What are you doing here?" he asks.  
"What are you talking about? This treehouse belongs to the Javert family!"  
The boy folds his arms and glares at me. He has curly black hair and wears a maroon t-shirt.

"Yeah. Right. We just moved here. It's ours now."  
This must be the family Jehan was talking about. Well, he had nothing to be excited about. This guy is immensely pig-headed.

"Grantaire! Come in, Mom wants you."  
The boy gives me a last dirty look and then slips out of the tree house.

"Dad's home!" calls Combeferre.

I bound down the steps. There's my dad. Laurent Javert. In his impressive police uniform. He turns down most badges he is offered, saying that he should not flaunt his high position, but keeps one. It's a pin, red and silver, shaped slightly like a flower. I feel sure that it has something to do with mother.

"Hello, Enjolras," he says, "How was your day?"  
"Fine." I decide to hold off the news of the new family until dinner. Knowing dad he'll be just as furious as I was about these kids.  
As dad sits down with his cup of tea, the doorbell rings.  
Dad gets up to open it. A lady's standing there. She looks to be in her mid thirties.  
"Hello," she says, "My name is Fantine Valjean. My family and I just moved in, and I just thought it would be nice if you could join us for dinner tonight?"

Dad smiles.  
"Certainly. I'm sure that the children would love meeting some new people."  
"Then it's settled? Seven-thirty?"  
"Yes."  
"Good."  
The lady leaves. And we're stuck having dinner with that awful family.


	2. Chapter 2

**Eponine**

I have a big family. A really big family. Made up of ten people, myself included. A group of geniuses.

Gavroche. He's only five, but he's the bravest person I know. Whenever we move, within a week he knows the neighborhood better than people who have known it for years.  
Azelma. She's six, she and Gavroche are partners in crime. She's also a great dancer.

Courfeyrac is eight. He is full of life and is fabulous at just about all sports. The house is filled with various trophies he has earned.

Grantaire is twelve. He's a fabulous artist, and his room is covered in sketches of everyone in the family.

Bahorel is fourteen. He's strong as an ox, and has a habit of carrying my siblings and I up the stairs, 'to keep up my strength,' he says.

Bossuet is sixteen, and is the singular most unlucky person on earth. I count him as a genius because he manages to keep his chin up through all his bad luck. I can't say the same of myself.

Cosette is my twin sister. She is my age, eleven, and she's a beauty queen. Not only that, but she's also incredibly good at music, and is extremely popular. I try not to be jealous of her... but it's impossible. She's perfect, she has everything.  
I'm eleven, too. I am in love with my books, especially Gone With The Wind. I play the piano, but I'm nowhere near as good as Cosette. My only claim to fame is my singing voice, but I'll only sing for certain people in my family. Even thinking about singing for a crowd makes me nervous. At school, I shrink into the shadows. I'm invisible, and that's just how I like it. That's the only way I'm comfortable. Because if you're invisible, you notice things.

I plop down on my bed and hear Cosette singing in her high, lilting voice and playing something on the piano. Naturally, she wrote it.

_I dreamed a dream in time gone by_

_When hope was high and life worth living_

_I dreamed that love would never die_

_I dreamed that god would be forgiving._

_Then I was young and unafraid, _

_And dreams were made and used and wasted_

_There was no ransom to be paid_

_No song unsung, no wine untasted._

_But the tigers come at night…_

And she bangs her hands on the keyboard.

"Drat! I just can't get this right! I'm totally off key."  
I walk to the piano

"Maybe if you played something like this before singing it?"  
I put my hands on the keys and play a few notes going down.

"That might help you know what to play:

_But the tigers come at night_

_With their voices soft as thunder_

_As they tear your hope apart_

_As they turn your dreams to shame."_

"Why don't you sing in public? You're really good."  
I shake my head, turning pink.

"No, never… only for you guys."

She frowns, but says nothing, and we skip to the end of the song.

And still I dreamed he'd come to me,

That we would live the years together…

"Freeze right there!" says a voice.

Grantaire steps in with his sketchbook in hand.

"A fabulous family picture."  
He draws for a few minutes, then tears the page out and hands it to me. I examine it. It is amazing. It shows Cosette at the piano with me standing next to her with my hands on the keys. Both of us have our mouths open as though in song.

I'm about to compliment him on it when Dad comes in. Jean Valjean. With his suit and his huge smile.

"Hi, Dad!" chirps Cosette.  
"Hi," I say.

He greets us both. Then Azelma comes rushing in.

"Daddy, where's Mommy?"  
He smiles and picks her up to give her a kiss.

"Ah, yes. About that- your mother has gone to ask the family next door for dinner."  
"No!" exclaims Grantaire, "Seriously, Dad? I met one of the kids, he's a jerk."  
"Well, maybe you'll make friends with someone else. I belive they're a rather large family."  
I roll my eyes. I'm dreading this. Grantaire's an extrodinarily good judge of character.

"Get dressed." And he leaves.

_Wonderful_.


	3. Chapter 3

**So, so sorry for the late update! I had a lot of stuff with school starting and all that. Thank you to LittlePeopleKnow for reminding me to get this up multiple times! On to the chapter: **

* * *

**Enjolras**

We're standing at the door of the Valjean family.

Dad's rung the doorbell.

We're waiting.

Waiting.

Finally, after about five minutes (dad refuses to ring the doorbell twice, he thinks it's rude), someone opens it. It's Fantine.

"Oh, hello," she says, "I'm so glad you're here. Come in!"  
We do, into a hallway filled with boxes.

"Excuse the mess, we just moved here."

Dad always gets nervous when he enters someone else's house, especially someone he hasn't met. Musichetta takes over.  
"Oh, it's fine. Our house looks like this most of the time."

Fantine laughs.

"Just sit down in the living room, the others will be right downstairs."

She shows us into a big room. I look around in interest. The walls are covered in various paraphanelia. Sheet music that looks handwritten. Poems. Trophies. And artwork. Paintings and sketches. They're all beautiful, and have the same signature at the bottom- an R.

I walk around the room, studying them, when Fantine walks in.

"Dinner's ready," she says, "Follow me."

* * *

We're all seated at the table, waiting for the others. The first person from the Valjean family to walk in is a girl, maybe around mine and Marius' age. I suppose she'd be described as pretty. She has curly blonde hair that's tied in a ponytail, perfect skin, and large blue eyes.  
She waves.

"Hello! I'm Cosette."  
I smile, but it's probably more of a grimace.

I turn to Marius. He's staring at her, openmouthed. I roll my eyes and groan. Marius has a crush. It'd be funny, his expression, if it weren't so annoying.

I hear Joly whisper into Marius' ear, "Ooh, looks like you like her, Marius!"  
Marius kicks Joly in the ankle. I rest my head in my hands.

Well, isn't this just lovely.

The others slowly file in. We start to eat. The boy from the treehouse is seated across from me.

"This is Grantaire, Enjolras, he's twelve. 'Taire, this is Enjolras. He's only a year younger than you," says Fantine. Then she continues her conversation with Musichetta.

I make a point of ignoring Grantaire throughout dinner. He does the same. I try to srtike up a conversation with the little boy next to me. He seems a little older than Jehan. He has curly black hair and looks a lot like Grantaire.

"Hi, I'm Enjolras."

"Courfeyrac. Nice to meet you."  
"How old are you?"  
"Eight, but I look eleven, don't you think?"

I chuckle.

"Yes, you do."  
The dinner goes reasonably well, now that I'm avoiding Grantaire.

But then disaster strikes.

Combeferre reaches out, staring at his book, and knocks the soup all over Cosette, who jumps up with a screech that startles Marius so much that he bangs his hand down on a spoon full of peas so that they splatter all over the table, hitting Gavroche. Gavroche jumps up onto his chair and begins yelling at the top of his lungs and falls, hitting Musichetta, who is trying to clean up the mess Combeferre made.

She stumbles back into the table, knocking over a pitcher of lemonade onto Joly, who panics and starts screaming about bacteria.

I jump up to calm him down, as he's shaking and hyperventilating. (Did I mention he's a bit of a hypochondriac?)

He doesn't cool down until I slap him. I then turn back to the table.  
Pandemonium.

Fantine is trying to clean off Cosette and Musich netta, and Fueilly and Jehan are soaked in ice cream (I don't know why and I don't want to).

Dad has leaped onto his chair and is blowing his whistle over and over again.

Valjean (That's what he insisted we call him) has managed to knock red wine onto Grantaire, who is yelling at Combeferre.

Courfeyrac and Bahorel start throwing things until Fantine yells at them.

Bossuet gets up, slips on a loose end of the tablecloth,yanking it off the table, and falling onto Azelma, so neither of them witness what happens next. The tablecloth flies into the air, taking the food with it. Everyone screams and covers their heads. We are then attacked by flying food. It's mortifying.

There's only one person who seems unshaken.

The girl. The one who is tall with skin tanned to a light brown and black hair. The one who seems to enjoy being invisible. The one named Éponine.  
I catch her eye, and I see the hint of a smile on her face, and I smile back. Then it goes away, and she goes back to looking embarrassed and horrified.

I can tell she is someone who doesn't want to be noticed.  
But for some reason, that fact makes her stand out a mile.

* * *

**Éponine**

As we're clearing up the mess in the dining room, the tension in the air is so thick you

could cut it with a knife. I take the plates into the kitchen and start cleaning them with a rag.

_Dip rag in water. Scrub. Soap. Scrub. Dry. Put in cabinet. Dip rag in water. Scrub. Soap. Scrub. Dry. Put in cabinet. Dip rag in water…_

I focus on methodically scrubbing the plates, hoping to clear my head.

No such luck.  
The Javert boy-Enjolras- comes in carrying a new stack of plates.  
"I offered to help with the plates."

I try to smile, but all I manage is pulling my lips back from my teeth in a wolf-like grimace.

"That was good of you."  
Dip rag in water. Scrub. Soap. Scrub…

"I'm really sorry about what happened," he says, sounding annoyingly like a teacher.

"Don't worry about it," I say through gritted teeth, "Wasn't your fault. "  
"No, I mean it."  
"It really wasn't your fault. Bossuet was the one who sent the plates flying."  
He nods, and I turn back to the plates.  
"How do you like living here so far?"

"Fine."  
_Dip rag in water. Scrub. Soap. Scrub. Dry. Put in cabinet. Dip rag in water. Soap. Scrub. Dry._

What? I'm getting mixed up.

I frown, confused, as the boy continues to attempt small talk. Then my hand slips, and I drop the plate. It shatters on the floor.

_Lovely_. The fool's distracting me.

"Oh," I say, forcing a smile, "Oops. Here, I'll clean it up. I don't need help. Really. I'm fine."  
He's silent for a moment, and I think he's gone. But he's not. He bends down on the floor next to me, and helps clear up the shattered plate.  
"Thanks," I say, with a tiny smile. He grins back, and then leaves.

* * *

"So, I noticed you mooning over Enjolras last night," says Grantaire wickedly the next morning at breakfast.

"Ew , gross, 'Taire! We're only eleven!" I exclaim in disgust.

"Why? Cosette likes Marius!"  
"Well, I think boys are gross. Especially you."  
"That's really kind of you."

"Shut up, Grantaire."

He just smiles, wiggling his eyebrows.

"I think they're idiots," says Bahorel loudly, "Did you see the mess they made?"

"You're one to talk," I mumble.  
"Actually, I'm the one who sent the plates flying," Bossuet puts in.  
"But still. That Combeferre boy started it," Grantaire says.  
"It was an accident," says Mom, "Accidents happen."  
"Bet you wouldn't say that if it had been us," says Courfeyrac.

"Not true," says Mom, seeming annoyed, "I would have understood it was an accident."  
"Right," says Courfeyrac, but he says nothing more.

Mom gets up to go to her room. The instant she leaves, Grantaire is talking fast.

"Can you _believe_ those Javerts? I can't believe Mom forgave them! She must have fallen under their spell. They're too good-looking, that's their problem. We can't compare!"  
"You mean _you_ can't," says Cosette, tossing her hair with a grin.  
"So what?" I ask Grantaire, "Who cares? It's no big deal."  
He frowns, "_I_ do. Let's get back at them."

He tells me his plan. By the end of it, everyone else is nodding and smiling. I shake my head.

"No. It won't work. You can't possibly be meaning to prank them!"  
He nods, with a wicked grin.  
"And I know just how to start."


End file.
